His name is cognac. He is six years old and was abused. Happy to report that he is well on his way to a fast recovery.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Friday, March 27, 2009
The Beginning of Healing from Child Abuse part 2
I'll never forget the day she drove up in my sister's driveway. I was a nervous wreck, and so overwhelmed that I went into the bathroom and locked myself in there for forty five minutes faking a shower. I was a trembling, sweaty mess. Finally , i said to myself, "you're the one who said yes to this meeting, get out there". I took a deep breath and still trembling, went out and said " I do not want to talk about what did or didn't happen as a child".
I found a little comfort in the fact that she was as frightened as I was. This was the first time in my life that I said I would do something and did it.
I lived with her for a month because I thought that would be a good way to see if she was as I remembered. I also thought that at the end of that month I would just let her have it, and hurt her the way she had hurt me, but as the days passed I learned that she had a lot of mental problems. She was also into religion, "Jehovah Witness" need I say more. I realized that even though she gave birth to me she stopped being my mother when I was born. she carried me for nine months, but when I was born she was no longer responsible for me. She didn't know how to be a mother. she didn't know how to be a person. I found myself felling sorry for her, I didn't want to, I wanted to hate her, but I couldn't. I wanted to hurt her, not physically,but mentally. Even if I would have tried she wouldn't have understood.
At the end of that month I sat her down and tole her, "you know, you gave birth to me, but that was when you stopped being my mother, and I your son. I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm going to leave, and live my own life for me. I don't belong here, I'm not your son, you're not my mother. I forgive you for whatever part you did or did not have in my life, and I hope you forgive me! I left and have never gone back.
I then went back to my father's house and tole them that I was leaving and the reason was because it was to painful for me to wee them hurting themselves and each other because of the alcohol. I told them
I found a little comfort in the fact that she was as frightened as I was. This was the first time in my life that I said I would do something and did it.
I lived with her for a month because I thought that would be a good way to see if she was as I remembered. I also thought that at the end of that month I would just let her have it, and hurt her the way she had hurt me, but as the days passed I learned that she had a lot of mental problems. She was also into religion, "Jehovah Witness" need I say more. I realized that even though she gave birth to me she stopped being my mother when I was born. she carried me for nine months, but when I was born she was no longer responsible for me. She didn't know how to be a mother. she didn't know how to be a person. I found myself felling sorry for her, I didn't want to, I wanted to hate her, but I couldn't. I wanted to hurt her, not physically,but mentally. Even if I would have tried she wouldn't have understood.
At the end of that month I sat her down and tole her, "you know, you gave birth to me, but that was when you stopped being my mother, and I your son. I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm going to leave, and live my own life for me. I don't belong here, I'm not your son, you're not my mother. I forgive you for whatever part you did or did not have in my life, and I hope you forgive me! I left and have never gone back.
I then went back to my father's house and tole them that I was leaving and the reason was because it was to painful for me to wee them hurting themselves and each other because of the alcohol. I told them
Saturday, March 21, 2009
This blog is interactive
Please feel free to leave a comment if you are so inclined, or share an experience, or ask questions. I would gladly respond to all. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Now to blog about abuse from male perspective
I am now going to blog about the abuse and the trauma I endured and how I survived without becoming an abuser myself
Thursday, March 19, 2009
The Beginning of Healing from Child Abuse Part 1
Well, here goes something. I am a thirty- five yr old ninth grade drop out about to tell you how I started the healing process from child abuse.
First I should tell you about the abuse. My mother divorced my father while he was in prison for not paying child support with wife#1. My mother was wife #2.
I live with my mother for the first two years of my life, during which time I suffered abuse, brutality, malnutrition, abandonment, rickets and sexual abuse from my step father. my mother and father were both alcoholics. Just after my second birthday my mother packed up herself and my older sister, set me on the front step of the trailer, locked it up and left.
I remember that day as though it was yesterday. I was sitting on the steps when a green car pulled up along the curb. I didn't know at that it was my father until he got out of the car. I couldn't go running to him like most little boys would because of my health.
He picked me up in his arms and carried me back to the car and told me that from now on I would live with him. He opened the door and set me on the lap of a woman he called mother, and off we drove.
I didn't understand until eleven years later that she was my stepmother. Whether asleep or awake, I had flash backs or dreams of a mean lady.
I* suffered from headaches, which grew into migraines by my teens. I was a "D" and "F" student in school and was always accused of daydreaming. I didn't know how to make friends, was very shy and started my first homosexual experiences at the age of five.
My father was a homophobic truck driver and a violent drunk and at the age of five told me that kissing him good night would stop because I was a big boy now. Hand shakes would take the place of love from my father.
I didn't start school until I was six. A few years later I was held back a year. by the time I turned seventeen I had run away several times. One day after school, I went to a Navy recruiting center and asked how old I had to be to join the service. they said eighteen but with parental consent I could join at seventeen. I asked for the necessary papers and took them home and said I wanted to join the Navy, and if they didn't sign the papers I would run away again. They decided that if I wanted away from home that bad, the military was the best place to be. I enlisted in August, 1972.
In all those years I had never heard from my natural mother, and on three separate occasions, my mother had asked about me. The first two times my father said she wanted to see me I said "NO". I could not hold down a job, and always thought everyone disliked or hated me. About the age of twenty or so I started reading books such as "I'm OK, Your're OK". any books that I thought would help me get over my dysfunctional family life. I also started doing crossword puzzles to increase my vocabulary, and would practice adding and subtracting till I didn't have to sue my fingers to help.
I didn't know it at the time but the decision to see my mother changed my life dramatically in ways I wasn't aware of until years later. At the age of 25 or so, having broken up with a lover, who was also and alcoholic, and abuser, I felt I was HIV positive that was back in 1979 June to be exact. I had decided to go home to Michigan to see my father and stepmother from here on referred to as mother of love. I was going to tell them that I thought I had AIDS, but five minutes in the door my father, for the third time, said your mother wants to see you. Without even thinking, I blurted out " I think its abouth time ". It wasn't until later that night that I staarted feeling scared, angry, confused, but not hopeful. What to say; what not to say; all the feelings and questions hit all at once. Talk about my cup runneth over, it was more like putting a thimble at the bottom of Niagara Falls.
First I should tell you about the abuse. My mother divorced my father while he was in prison for not paying child support with wife#1. My mother was wife #2.
I live with my mother for the first two years of my life, during which time I suffered abuse, brutality, malnutrition, abandonment, rickets and sexual abuse from my step father. my mother and father were both alcoholics. Just after my second birthday my mother packed up herself and my older sister, set me on the front step of the trailer, locked it up and left.
I remember that day as though it was yesterday. I was sitting on the steps when a green car pulled up along the curb. I didn't know at that it was my father until he got out of the car. I couldn't go running to him like most little boys would because of my health.
He picked me up in his arms and carried me back to the car and told me that from now on I would live with him. He opened the door and set me on the lap of a woman he called mother, and off we drove.
I didn't understand until eleven years later that she was my stepmother. Whether asleep or awake, I had flash backs or dreams of a mean lady.
I* suffered from headaches, which grew into migraines by my teens. I was a "D" and "F" student in school and was always accused of daydreaming. I didn't know how to make friends, was very shy and started my first homosexual experiences at the age of five.
My father was a homophobic truck driver and a violent drunk and at the age of five told me that kissing him good night would stop because I was a big boy now. Hand shakes would take the place of love from my father.
I didn't start school until I was six. A few years later I was held back a year. by the time I turned seventeen I had run away several times. One day after school, I went to a Navy recruiting center and asked how old I had to be to join the service. they said eighteen but with parental consent I could join at seventeen. I asked for the necessary papers and took them home and said I wanted to join the Navy, and if they didn't sign the papers I would run away again. They decided that if I wanted away from home that bad, the military was the best place to be. I enlisted in August, 1972.
In all those years I had never heard from my natural mother, and on three separate occasions, my mother had asked about me. The first two times my father said she wanted to see me I said "NO". I could not hold down a job, and always thought everyone disliked or hated me. About the age of twenty or so I started reading books such as "I'm OK, Your're OK". any books that I thought would help me get over my dysfunctional family life. I also started doing crossword puzzles to increase my vocabulary, and would practice adding and subtracting till I didn't have to sue my fingers to help.
I didn't know it at the time but the decision to see my mother changed my life dramatically in ways I wasn't aware of until years later. At the age of 25 or so, having broken up with a lover, who was also and alcoholic, and abuser, I felt I was HIV positive that was back in 1979 June to be exact. I had decided to go home to Michigan to see my father and stepmother from here on referred to as mother of love. I was going to tell them that I thought I had AIDS, but five minutes in the door my father, for the third time, said your mother wants to see you. Without even thinking, I blurted out " I think its abouth time ". It wasn't until later that night that I staarted feeling scared, angry, confused, but not hopeful. What to say; what not to say; all the feelings and questions hit all at once. Talk about my cup runneth over, it was more like putting a thimble at the bottom of Niagara Falls.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Is It HIV or PMS, by Ken hornby
People who say they care can do the mos damage to one's self esteem. Emotions are in the rawest form when dealing with an HIV infected/AIDS person. Things are implied or said that are really offensive and people saying those things usually say that they are "trying to understand." It seems easier for people to say "it's the HIV talking." It is justifiable to realize that HIV has changed our attitudes, feelings, and concerns, even our way of life. How ever, please, do not dismiss the issue by saying, "It's the HIV talking again." Several women have expressed anger over being told "It's PMS," or "It's that time of the month." Many HIV infected/AIDS people feel the same anger over the trifling of our concerns.
Lovers, friends, and family forget that we still have the same self-esteem conflicts as we did when we were not infected. Comments can shut down our feelings and makes us question weather or not we do have HIV brain infection, or if our feelings are genuine. we watch the virus take away our strength, our bodies, and (lastly) our minds. We don't need constant reminders of how the disease has taken more control. We so feel and see those subtle rolls of the eyes, expressions on the faces, and tones in the voices. Just remember, PMS is a temporary condition, but HIV is permanent and there is no escape. If you hear the virus is talking today, will you take me seriously tomorrow
Lovers, friends, and family forget that we still have the same self-esteem conflicts as we did when we were not infected. Comments can shut down our feelings and makes us question weather or not we do have HIV brain infection, or if our feelings are genuine. we watch the virus take away our strength, our bodies, and (lastly) our minds. We don't need constant reminders of how the disease has taken more control. We so feel and see those subtle rolls of the eyes, expressions on the faces, and tones in the voices. Just remember, PMS is a temporary condition, but HIV is permanent and there is no escape. If you hear the virus is talking today, will you take me seriously tomorrow
A Gay Man
A Gay Man
Born from the loins of a woman,
Who was seeded by a man.
The world afraid, ashamed, and shuns who I am.
Why then, A demon does the world see, when God created me?
A GAY MAN
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